


Potentia et Imperium

by ashhh



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Bottom Dean, Bottom Dean Winchester, Dom Castiel, Dom Castiel/Sub Dean Winchester, Dom/sub, M/M, Masochism, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sub Dean, Top Castiel, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Wing Kink, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-01 17:23:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13299609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashhh/pseuds/ashhh
Summary: Seeing him in that moment made every fiber of my being itch and burn to lay my hands on Dean. Tie him up. Do filthy things to him. Take him thoroughly apart. Ruin him. And claim him, irrevocably and magnificently, as mine.I tried to find the words.





	Potentia et Imperium

**Author's Note:**

> This took me so long, oh my gosh, but it was worth it. 
> 
> This is complete and utter kinky Destiel filth. Have fun, y'all.

It did seem like a pretty average evening at the bunker.

 

The key word here is: ‘seem’.

 

Sam and Dean lazily threw themselves onto the couch, worn out from months of abuse, and tucked into some pizza shamelessly. I observed that Sam’s had spinach on it as a very weak attempt to make it healthy, whereas Dean just couldn’t care less and went for extra cheese, extra meat, extra everything.

 

Sometimes, although I would be reluctant to admit it, I wonder what it is like to eat. To enjoy food. Dean bit into the slice of pizza so feverently, and its very presence in his mouth gave him such pleasure. His pretty green eyes slid shut ever-so-slightly as he ate, letting out the most gratifying sound.

 

I realised with slight concern that it can only be compared to the sounds that the babysitter in the pizza man video made.

 

‘Dude, stop staring. We’ve discussed this,’ Dean said, his voice muffled around the food still in his mouth.

 

‘My apologies, Dean,’ I said, not making even the slightest of movements to stop.

 

He was just so beautiful to look at. At a first glance, his facial features struck me and reeled me in just like a fish caught on a hook. The soft, almost feminine fullness of his eyes and lips were always ever-so inviting and warm. And, though unlikely, they contrasted brilliantly with the masculine, dangerous sharpness of his jaw, nose, and cheekbones. It was such an alluring slight.

 

But, alas, nothing good ever comes for free for me. Like a line-caught fish is mangled from the pull of its sharp hook, I am, of course, warped and twisted from the ever-present, undeniable pull of Dean Winchester.

 

Seeing him in that moment, moaning obscenely around a delicious slice of pizza, made every fibre of my being itch and burn to lay my hands on Dean. Tie him up. Do filthy things to him. Take him thoroughly apart. Ruin him. And claim him, irrevocably and magnificently, as mine.

 

I tried to find the words.

 

‘Oh, shit,’ Sam said around a mouthful of food, thankfully interrupting my train of thought before it went to places of no return. He was looking down at his phone.

‘There’s been four deaths and counting in the next town over-’ he faltered mid-sentence, eyebrows raised in shock. ‘It’s really disturbing stuff. Blood and entrails all over the place. I’m thinking something with a high kill drive, low intelligence?’ Sam showed Dean and I the rather graphic picture attached to the news article.

 

‘Damn,’ Dean whistled, almost sounding impressed.

 

‘Well…’ I straightened up, looking closely at Sam’s phone. ‘It looks to me like a werewolf or something. We might as well go and take care of it, considering the amount of people it’s killed by now.’

 

‘Makes sense. It shouldn’t be too difficult for one of us,’ Dean said gruffly.

 

‘I’ll go, then,’ Sam stood up and stretched as if he were about to go and buy groceries rather than kill a powerful monster on his own.

 

‘Be careful!’ Dean called, as his brother went to leave the room.

 

‘Thanks,’ Sam smiled.

 

‘I mean with my car, jerk.’

 

‘Bitch.’

 

And, with a low laugh and Dean’s beloved Impala keys, Sam left.

 

After a beat of silence, Dean became concerned about my evident staring. ‘Dude, is something on my face?’

 

I didn’t answer with anything more than a huff, and by fixing my eyes at the television instead.

 

‘You know, the last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid, Cas,’ Dean said casually, smiling. My blood ran boiling hot. I stood up.

 

‘You should show me some respect.’ I said, my voice with a steely edge. Dean huffed, looking up at me with amusement light in his eyes. Pretty eyes.

 

‘Sure, Cas. And while I’m at it, we can all braid each other’s hair and have a slumber party,’ he scoffed, turning away from me and back to the television. But I knew better than to believe him.

 

The journey to Hell had been excruciating. Dozens of Heaven’s strongest soldiers perished, their grace too pure and fine for the blazing heat of Hell. The monsters and tortured souls beneath us had cackled and lavished in the excitement of angels raining down upon them, bodies being plucked out of the darkened sky and falling and falling and falling. I was very lucky not to be one of them.

 

Our mission was very simple: rescue the righteous man. Bring him back alive.

 

If I had thought that the stench of rotting, agonising human souls in Hell was unbearable, I was entirely unprepared for the weight of his soul in my arms. For lack of better words, it was like absolutely nothing I had ever experienced.

It was so brilliantly bright. In that moment, I realised where his nickname amongst the angels came from. The righteous man, so pure, so selfless, so perfect- completely broken and shattered in my hands, almost irreparably. And so, while my brothers and sisters bravely fought for my safety, I sat in the fires of Hell and slowly pieced him back together. It had taken an endless stretch of time, but every single part of his soul I turned in the palms of my hands, examined, and committed to memory. Then, amongst the sulphur and blood-rains, I brought it together, sewing it with threads of my grace. He was alive and amazingly whole- gloriously so.

 

That was the moment I fell in love with Dean Winchester.

 

It may have been the hardest task of my life so far to take the soul I had spent so long stitching together, adoring, treasuring- and leave him desperate and alone on the face of the Earth, with no recollection of what I had done. But, I followed him, answering his every call and humouring his every whim. I felt no regret. The righteous man was not to be ignored.

 

But then, like neglected things often do, my affection for Dean became desperate and out of control over time. It was primal and instinctive. The very essence of my seraph grace was hard-wired, by God, for submission. Amongst those who have faith, I am built to answer and serve.

However, there are two sides to every coin- and there is only so far you can repress an urge before it comes back to bite you on the ass with the force of a thousand suns. The power and control of a seraph like myself went almost unmatched. I needed to mark what was mine. Dean’s soul was mine.

 

My better judgement suddenly falling away, I stood up, silencing the television with a brief thought. Outside, lighting and thunder rained down upon the building, my grace spiralling out of control in a display of dominance.

 

‘You should show me some respect.’ I repeated.

 

 

/////

 

 

Fuck. Fucking hell.

 

And, just like that, Cas successfully sucked all the oxygen out of the room, leaving me breathless and embarrassingly hot. My skin prickled all over my body as he practically towered above me, glaring at me with such a heated stare that I couldn’t help but melt beneath it.

 

And just how was I supposed to respond to that?!

 

‘Cas, I-’ I trailed off, my voice uneven.

 

‘Listen to me, Dean,’ the angel growled, stepping unbelievably close to me. His dams were breaking, his usually passive blue eyes alive and blazing.

It was terrifying. It was insane. It was… so hot.

 

‘I took your soul from Hell, and I spent months stitching it together with my own grace, while my brothers and sisters died defending us. I held each individual piece of you in my hands. I protected you from the sulphur and blood-rains of Hell with my own body. Then, I put you back on Earth, and went back to Heaven just to literally fight an entire war.’

 

Cas inched closer, pressing his hand to my chest and pushing me down onto the bed. An embarrassing sound escapes my lips. He was so powerful. He did not tear his gaze from mine, not once.

 

‘Then, while I was risking my life on behalf of humanity, I came when you called. Every single time- I answered you. Served you. Because I respected you.’ He spat the last part of his sentence like an insult.

 

Cas started to pull his tie from around his neck. I tried very hard to wish away my growing boner.

 

‘And now, Dean,’

 

With bated breath, I stared dumbfounded at the seraph as he leaned in very closely, very slowly- and took his tie and fucking bound my wrists above me with it. Every subtle touch, every breath, I felt it all with incredible sensitivity.

 

I was tied up. I was tied up, on a bed, in front of a pissed off, eternally powerful angel, who could smite me with a thought. And I was fucking loving it.

 

‘You think it’s acceptable,’ Cas laughs softly. He threaded his fingers through my hair. I felt the sensation under every inch of my skin.

 

Suddenly, he sharply pulled my hair, yanking my head up towards his. The pain went straight to my groin, and I moaned softly.

 

‘You think it’s okay to show me this contempt? This insolence?’ Castiel breathed the words on my lips like they were a challenge. Like he was just daring me to respond to him. His eyes, now, were hooded and glazed over, looking at me like I was his prey.

 

‘Cas, Cas-’ I gasped with no intention of completing a sentence.

 

‘My name…’ Impossibly, he moved closer, his face centimetres from mine. His voice was unyielding, cold, merciless. ‘… is _Castiel_. Don’t butcher my name unless you wish to be punished, Dean Winchester.’

 

As sharply and quickly as a bolt of lightning, the word ‘punishment’ sent my dick from interested to rock hard. I lifted my hips, looking for friction, but there was none to be found. He accentuated his threat by removing my shirt with a quick snap, and biting down onto the sensitive patch of skin where my neck met my collarbone. Fucking hell.

 

This was turning me on far more than it had any right to. I just couldn’t help but shiver and melt beneath him, the air around us crackling with electricity and all the heavenly wrath that I often forgot Castiel possessed. He could snap me in half with a glance. He could do anything to me in that moment, with my wrists bound tightly above my head with nothing more than a tie and a tendril of grace to lock me there. I groaned embarrassingly loudly at this realisation. I was utterly powerless, unresisting to anything Castiel wanted to do to me. And, God… the things I wanted him to do to me.

 

‘Dean, listen to me,’ Castiel said, lifting his head from my neck, his low voice rumbling smoothly but urgently. ‘If at any point you want to stop, or if it becomes too much, say “rose”. Okay?’

 

‘Safewords, Cas, really?’ I laughed. Outside, a deafening crack of thunder silenced me. Castiel, straddling my hips at this point, straight-up growled. To my surprise, he flipped my entire body over effortlessly so that I was laying on my front, hopelessly exposed and somehow naked.

 

Castiel’s voice dropped coldly. ‘Do you need to be reminded, human, of how you should treat your master?’

 

‘Aaah, Castiel, please…’ I whimpered.

 

‘Speak when spoken to,’ he whispered easily into my ear. My cock was painfully hard, trapped between nothing more than my torso and the bedsheets. I couldn’t hear anything other than a gentle metal clink, something sliding against fabric, and my own harsh ragged breathing. I hoped desperately that it was what I thought it was.

 

‘You need to be taught a lesson. Count with me now, Winchester,’ the angel said, his voice oozing authority and control.

 

Suddenly, without even enough time for me to even process what he meant, Castiel took his belt and hit my ass with it with incredible force.

 

 _Crack_.

 

‘Aaaaaahh!!’ I cried helplessly, arching my back under the sensation. The sudden shock of the pain gave me an amazing rush that racked my body all at once.

To tell the truth, after years of routinely sticking myself on the front lines for the sake of other people, I had developed a pretty high pain resistance. But this was different. Castiel held my soul right there in front of him, and I trusted him with it. I trusted him with anything he gave me, and God, did that feel good.

He was also just really fucking strong.

 

The strike itself was entirely unexpected, and unlike the kind I was used to, spread to the rest of my body warmly. It felt like I was on fire, adrenaline and endorphins rushing furiously in my blood.

 

‘One,’ I choked out, already hopelessly and unbelievably aroused.

 

‘Good boy,’ growled Castiel before he struck me again with his belt, just adjacent to his previous mark. Oh my God.

 

 _Crack_.

 

‘Two,’ I gasped. My cock was positively straining against the bedsheets for friction.

 

 _Crack_.

 

‘Th-three,’

 

‘Tell me what you did wrong, Dean.’ His voice was so smooth, so low, so primal.

 

Turning slightly to see Castiel, I was delighted to find his eyes dark and utterly blown wide with lust and want. His knuckles were white from holding his belt so tightly. I was convinced I’d never see an image as mind-blowingly hot as this ever again.

 

‘I-I wasn’t respectful to you,’ I exhaled shakily. There was no way I could even pretend I wasn’t wildly into this.

 

 _Crack_.

 

‘Fuck! F-Four,’

 

‘And?’

 

‘Ah-’ I groan under Castiel’s scrutiny, his demanding, cold tone, too far gone to string together a coherent sentence. All I could think about was the cruel and slow drag of my dick on the bed with my movements, leaking with precome, and the soft friction of Castiel’s tie on my wrists. God, I wanted him to leave his marks on my wrists, my ass, my chest, everywhere.

 

 _Crack_.

 

‘Aaah!’ He brought his belt down much harder. I moaned harshly, loudly. I was all but exploding with sensation, yet not at all enough.

 

‘More, more…’ I panted.

 

‘Are you begging already?’ Castiel asked me with a hint of a smirk, and all I could do was look at him with hooded eyes as he turned my body back towards him. I shuddered under the touch of his hands on my hips, moving me with strength I would never fail to be shocked by. Going without touch for this long made every innocuous brush of skin feel explosively intimate.

 

‘Look at me,’ he said, never once breaking eye contact, more of a turn on than I would ever care to admit.

 

With the urgency of a fucking snail, he brought the trench coat down from his shoulders and released it to the floor. I watched eagerly as he brought his hands up to his shirt, and torturously slowly unbuttoned it, revealing more of his skin with every passing second.

 

The image of Castiel naked was one that was almost forbidden in my mind- one of God’s soldiers utterly exposed and debauched was one that very few would have the luxury of experiencing, if anyone. Maybe that’s why I thought it was so damn hot.

 

With a snap and a flash of grace, Cas’ pants had been banished to the other side of the room.

‘You’ve forgotten your place, Winchester,’ he said, all traces of restraint gone from his eyes, replaced with something foreign and unstoppable.

 

‘Have I?’ My voice cracked a little.

 

‘Do you have any idea how hard it’s been? Watching you walk around the way you are and have to resist you?’ He accentuated his point by dragging his nails down my chest, leaving sparks behind. I moaned.

 

‘Years now, Dean, for years, I’ve had to stop myself from doing this,’ he sunk down to my hipbones and sucked deep, beautifully bright red marks all over them. My wrists, I was certain, would be blistered with the strain of not being able to touch Cas right then and there. My cock was so frustratingly close to him, aching and flushed red, but it remained neglected. I desperately willed every muscle in my body not to move my hips. The sight of Castiel’s head nipping and sucking at my hips, then my thighs, was far too much and yet not at all enough.

 

‘I’m going to mark you, Dean,’ Cas mumbled. ‘Every human and angel in the garrison will know that you’re all mine.’

 

That was something that I would delay thinking about for as long as possible and inevitably shove into my very adult Repressed Thoughts and Feelings Box, but in the heat of the moment, it was everything I wanted to hear and more.

 

‘Please, Castiel…’ I groaned. I felt his lips curve into a smile at the curve where my inner thigh began.

 

‘Suck,’ Castiel demanded, bringing his hand to my mouth. I did, too out of it to give the slightest of shits about not making a mess.

‘You know your safeword,’ he mumbled against my skin, leaving me confused for a very, very brief moment.

 

Without warning, he brought his hand up to my red and raw ass and promptly slid a finger, almost dry, inside of me. I yelled (definitely not shrieked) at the intrusion, pain overriding out any pleasure there was to be gained. Barely giving me enough time to breathe, and continuing to bite trails of bruises across my abdomen, there was another finger.

 

There wasn’t even any air left in my lungs to make a noise when Castiel slowly curled his fingers and pressed cruelly up into something I didn’t even know existed. All that escaped me was a strangled choke as sparks flew across my vision, all burning and heat and oh _God_ , that was good, please, more-

 

‘Dean, you have no idea-’ Castiel said, exhaling short, forced breaths. When he looked up at me, his eyes were blown wide with want and pink dusted his cheeks.

 

‘Please, please, move!’ I whimpered.

 

‘I’m going to fuck you,’ Cas promised, totally ignoring my request. ‘Take you as mine.’ His voice was like lava across my skin, slow and heavy, scorching hot, and dangerous. That sentence made my face burn with anticipation and excitement.

 

‘All mine, Dean.’

 

He looked at me for a long moment, as if waiting for me to use the safeword, but I made it very clear what I thought of his idea my pressing my hips further down onto his hand with a rough moan. It was the most touch I had gotten from him this entire time, and besides, the feeling of the rough sheets against my brand-new belt marks was not something to be ignored.

 

Despite my vision of reality being clouded and distorted by this point, I saw Castiel haphazardly pull his own dick free from his underwear, and I remember never being so pleased to see anything in my life. It was long and lean, smooth and flawless like the rest of Castiel’s body, with a bead of precome pearling at its tip. The best part about it was that Cas had been just as deprived of touch as I had been this entire time, so he wasted no time in pressing himself to my hole _thank fucking God_.

 

I wasn’t even able to speak, the force of what was happening knocking out any and all of my basic brain functions. All that escaped my lips was a drawn out whine when he slid in, gasping in time with me. The harsh burn of it was something I’d never admit to liking. Castiel was almost heartbreakingly slow at first, giving me plenty of time to adjust like I was some sort of blushing virgin (which was far from true). This didn’t last for very long.

 

The feeling of someone I trusted so much moving inside of me was something I’d never forget. There was nothing, absolutely nothing in my head except for _Cas, Cas, Cas, Cas_. Distantly, through clouds of fog, I could hear myself chanting his name between moans in time with his thrusts, pushing my body into the bed with every push. 

 

I could tell, I could just _tell_ , that Cas was fully aware that the angle he was driving in at was just shy of my prostate. The little shit.

 

The fresh welts on my ass burnt and stung against the bed, my fingertips red from grabbing the damn tie so tightly, and the way Castiel was harsh, nearly dryly fucking me was nothing short of spectacular. That, along with the complete lack of touch to my dick, I’m sure was going to completely kill me.

 

‘I want you to feel this, Dean,’ Castiel growled in between breaths. ‘Feel me inside you for weeks.’

 

‘Please, Castiel, I can’t, it’s so much-’ I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut at the attack of sensation from everywhere. Distantly, I felt something drip from my cheek, before faintly acknowledging it as my own tears. In between all the haze of being fucked by the most powerful thing on the planet, I came to a sudden realisation.

 

‘Show me,’ I choked out. Castiel let out a noise halfway between a moan and a whimper, gripping my hips tightly and slowing down.

 

‘Dean…’

 

‘Show them to me.’ I insisted. To my surprise, Cas reached up and with a swift tug, released my hands from his tie.

 

From the crooks of his shoulder blades materialised two grand wings, black but blazing in light, a true creation of God. They were so huge, so magnificent, that I almost felt unworthy of even looking at them. They moved slightly, the feathers so delicate-looking but utterly ethereal, timeless, glorious. For the first time since learning of the angels’ existence, I truly understood that these were the Biblical creatures humanity has adored and feared for centuries. Castiel was so much greater than myself, in size and in power, and he could have crushed me like a fly with a thought if he wanted.

 

‘Can I...?’ I gestured to his wings, my arms reaching out tentatively.

 

By way of response, Castiel leaned further over my body, and extended his wings in invitation. He was breathing heavily, looking down at me with his laser-eyes more intense than ever, his face flushed and completely debauched. What I wouldn’t have given to be in his head.

 

My fingertips lightly ghosted over some of the longer feathers. It didn’t feel anything like the feathers of a bird, but instead felt like something solidly electric that sent tingles up my arm, like something I would only experience in a dream. What was far more interesting, though, was Castiel’s reaction to my touch.

 

His sharp eyes were only fluttering open, his mouth ajar as he was struggling to compose himself. With every passing second, his wings curled further around me, as if trying to protect me, shield me, take me as his.

 

Knocking all the air out of my lungs, Cas suddenly delivered a sharp thrust directly to my prostate. In shock, I grabbed onto the smallest, softest feathers nearest to Castiel’s torso, pulling suddenly, noises that I never dreamed I’d ever make being pulled out of me.

 

‘ _Fuck_ , Castiel!’

 

He all but screamed, wings shuddering under my touch, hints of blue lights appearing in his eyes. He dug his fingernails desperately into my sides. Unknowingly his hips stuttered against me, and I ached to reach down and touch him. Take his dick into my mouth, and let him come all over my face.

 

Unrelentingly, I kept going, tugging and pulling the most sensitive parts of his wings. The air around us felt alive with static and something distinctly otherworldly as Castiel moaned and writhed above me with each one of his thrusts, each one hitting my prostate with incredible accuracy. I couldn’t help but join him, the image of the angel falling apart with pleasure above me too much to bear.

 

‘I need you,’ I babbled, far too far gone to have any control of my mouth. It felt like everything I was experiencing was from miles away, through a thick hazy cloud, made of electricity and fire and _Cas_. The steadily building pressure in my dick was almost painful, so insanely turned on but completely neglected.

 

‘Dean,’ he repeated, staring at my bare soul with razor-sharp focus and distance all the same, fucking me so hard I could hardly stand the overstimulation anymore. ‘Come for me.’

 

This wasn’t a tip over the edge into climax. No, this was a _kick_ , and it wracked every atom in my body, coming out of me in waves and waves and waves, leaving nothing behind, with the faint sound of screaming. My vision whited-out.

 

All I remember before soaring over the edge was a smooth, low, ordering voice, the beautiful image of flapping black wings, and sharp blue light cracking through the gaps of a firm hand clamped over my eyes. I felt him, the real Cas, not just his vessel, filling every corner of the room and zoning in on me. I felt the blaze of his grace as he hit his peak shortly after me, ionizing my skin and reaching out for my soul.

 

It was glorious, magnificent, incredible, being claimed by Castiel. As if I were made for this all along. All I regret is not being able to see his face as he came.

 

There was tingling- a vague reminder of my attachment to my body, and the limp fall of an angel and his beautiful wings behind him on top of me. Other than that, there was absolutely nothing. Just the buzz of the most intense orgasm of my life and the high-pitched fading wail of Castiel’s true voice.

 

I promptly passed out.

 

 

////////

 

 

‘ _Dude_!’ Someone shrieked. I had never wanted to hear a voice less in my entire life. I faintly recognised it as Sam. Stirring into consciousness, I noticed the blur of morning sunlight filtering through the windows.

 

Much more importantly, I suddenly became aware that I was downright cuddling a seraph. My body, rudely without my consent, had curled into Castiel’s side, clutching the feathers of his pretty wings like a child would their favourite stuffed animal. Oh my god, there were come stains on them.

 

 _I came on his wings_. Holy shit.

 

Cas seemed to notice my cluelessness, second only to a new-born animal, because he took pity on me and attended to Sam. Who had walked in. On Cas and I cuddling. Naked.

 

‘Hello, Sam.’ Cas said, feigning innocence.

 

‘Oh my _God_!’ Sam shouted, horrified, totally ignoring Cas. I blinked slowly, trying to soak everything in. The skin on my ass, thighs, and back were weakly stinging, flooding me with memories of the night before. Or, the best sex of my life.

 

With a painful lurch of my stomach, I remembered that all the belt marks were completely exposed and in my little brother’s plain view.

 

‘What the actual _fuck_ , Dean!’ Sam was positively revolted, trying to blindly grope for the door handle with both of his eyes covered by his giant moose arm.

 

Burning with embarrassment, I tried to bury myself into Castiel’s feathers. It didn’t work, but they were soft.

 

‘Is there an issue?’ Castiel said to my brother with such evenness, as if I hadn’t just traumatised him for life. He just made a noise that vaguely resembled gagging.

 

‘Get out, Sam,’ I yelled through Cas’ feathers.

 

‘I’m _trying_ , asshole!’ Came his immediate response, right before the loud crash of Sam’s escape.

 

The look of Castiel’s face after that was nothing short of joy as he turned back around to me and curled the wing I hadn’t been laying on around me. I made a half-assed, unconvincing effort to pretend I didn’t like the wing-cocoon as much as I did, especially over the soreness of my back.

 

‘You’re a dick,’ I grumbled, wriggling closer, too tired to care anymore.

 

‘All yours,’ Cas whispered proudly, and that was the last thing that was said for a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaand I'll see all of you in Hell!
> 
> Considering BDSM was basically what this entire fic was made up of, it was pretty important that everything was safe, sane, and consensual. Hopefully that's how it came across. 
> 
> I absolutely love seeing your comments, so please tell me what you thought. If lots of people like it, I'll make a part two (Dean's turn, maybe?) :)


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